


A Fool For Your Face

by ModernMyth



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Asexual, Asexuality, Coming Out, Demisexuality, F/M, Post-Avengers (2012), demisexual, post-avenger au featuring sprinklings of aou, schmoopy af, when random head canons won't leave you alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 01:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12877446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernMyth/pseuds/ModernMyth
Summary: Natasha really likes him. Much more than she anticipated. More than she has liked anyone in a very, very long time. But that fact alone means they’ve got things to discuss.--post-avengers au of sorts





	A Fool For Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've managed to complete in a while, so I'm a little rusty. Forgive me. Just a headcanon I needed to come to fruition. I'm playing a little fast and loose on the timeline with this one, but it's some point Post-Avengers. Title from the song by Coves. Quick and unbeta'd.

It’s been fifteen days since the first time they fell asleep in each other’s presence, both nodding off together on the couch, black and white television screen flickering in the background as they slumped into the cushions during a classic movie marathon. It’d been a long time since Natasha had accidentally fallen asleep in front of someone else other than Clint, and she wonders for a moment if she is losing her edge. Or maybe this is just what trust feels like. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

It’s been nine days since the first time they found solace in each other’s embrace - she remembers watching Bruce stumble into the common living room around four in the morning, glassy eyed and tormented, and Natasha was already there, sitting on the couch, drinking vodka straight from the bottle. It was one of _those_ kinds of nights for her, too. She’d granted him a sympathetic smile and patted the couch cushion next to her. Before she knew it, she’d put down the bottle and taken his hand in hers, stroking the front of his hand with her thumb and tucking his head underneath her chin. They’d stayed like that for long hours, until the demands of the new day caught up with them.

It’s been four days since the first time they kissed. Bruce had been getting far too reclusive for his own good, holed up in the tower, and Natasha had impulsively dragged him by the arm from his lab a few days ago, shoved him in the bathroom and told him to brush his teeth and meet her in the lobby in ten minutes, giving him a stern look. He wisely did as he was told, and she grabbed his hand when he met her downstairs and informed him they were going out for coffee.

“You need to get out of this place for a few hours, Bruce,” Natasha had told him pointedly. “When’s the last time you actually left the tower?”

He flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Been a while. You’re probably right.”

Then he squeezed her hand and told her to lead the way.

They’d talked over coffee, about travel, about literature, about politics. About how they both take their coffee. She shared battle stories - some hilarious, some horrifying. He shared tales from life on the run. Hours later, waiting on a street corner for a gap in traffic, Natasha turned to him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, testing the waters. Bruce responded with aplomb, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her back with a slow-building enthusiasm that warmed Natasha’s bones.

And just last night, they slept curled up together in her bed. They’d both had rough days, and when she’d found him wandering the halls of Avengers Tower late into the night, she’d invited him into her quarters and asked him to stay. That fact alone surprises her - Natasha usually hates having her space invaded. She doesn’t have guests. Yet she’d invited Bruce without a second thought. They spent the night in each other’s arms, sometimes talking, sometimes sleeping, sometimes simply finding comfort in the silence.

Natasha really likes him. Much more than she anticipated. More than she has liked anyone in a very, very long time.

But that fact alone means they’ve got things to discuss.

Daylight is just beginning to filter in through Natasha’s window when she shifts in his embrace, turning to face him.

“Hey,” her voice is raspy with sleep, and Bruce curls closer into her body, letting out a lengthy, adorable yawn.

He blinks the sleep from his eyes and gives her a lazy, pleased smile.

“Hey,” he grins, pressing a light, casual kiss to her shoulder.

Natasha gives him an affectionate look and clears her throat. “I’ve been thinking I should probably talk to you about something.”

Bruce perks up, drowsy smile slipping away, quickly replaced with a more serious expression.

“I’m all ears.”

He lightly places a hand on her arm, and Natasha finds it oddly comforting. A little contact, but nothing too overbearing. More like an acknowledgement.

She clears her throat. “I’m not interesting in sex.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You’re…” he pauses. “Really?”

Natasha has to refrain from rolling her eyes. “So shocked, Banner?”

He frowns. “No, no, it’s not that. Well,” he amends, “I guess I am a little surprised.”

“Disappointed? Most people don’t peg me as asexual.”

He nudges her shoulder with his nose. “Relieved, actually. I can’t have sex, anyway.”

Natasha tilts her head in acknowledgement. “Okay. But can’t have sex is not the same as does not want sex. Suppose you find a cure for your...situation. Or you find a way to completely control the Big Guy. Don’t you think that will change things for you?”

Bruce shakes his head without hesitation. “Tasha, I...honestly, I’ve only ever been with two women. My highschool girlfriend, and then Betty. In high school, I only really slept with her because it was the thing to do. It never really felt right, but I brushed it off as inexperience. And with Betty,” he looks thoughtful. “Well, it was good. It was good because I loved her, but it wasn’t everything. Sex has always been kind of take-it-or-leave-it for me.”

Natasha feels something suspiciously akin to hope bloom in her chest. “Yeah?”

He nods. “I think I’m probably demisexual. I’d never heard that term until a few years back, but it fits. When I realized I couldn’t have sex, it wasn’t that big of a deal to me, and I honestly didn’t miss it. Plus, it kind of took a lot of the pressure off of me in terms of figuring out where I fall on the spectrum of asexuality. I don’t really miss sex. The thing I missed was…” he looks a touch embarrassed and turns his gaze to the ceiling. “Closeness,” he admits. “And I feel like I have that now,” he adds, voice softening. “With you.”

Natasha traces a hand up his arm, across his neck, and cups Bruce’s cheek in her palm. It takes him another long moment to meet her eyes, and she’s not sure she’s ever seen him look quite so vulnerable.

She smiles at him a bit tremulously, feeling the magnitude of their admissions, and she brushes her lips gently against Bruce’s. She runs her thumb lightly against his bottom lip when she pulls back.

Natasha murmurs a simple, “Me too.”

Bruce relaxes against her, muttering a “good” into her shoulder blade, then burrows his face into her neck. She hums in response, closing her eyes and wrapping an arm around his waist, settling in again. In a drowsy voice she asks Jarvis to wake them around nine, and together they find a few more hours of restful sleep.


End file.
